Childhood Memories
by LydiaTheTattooedLady
Summary: Pre-X-files: A series of small events in Dana Scully's childhood. Might get glimpses of familiar faces.
1. Proof

**Pre-X-files: A series of small events in Dana Scully's childhood. Might get glimpses of familiar faces.**

**Disclaimer: The characters of the X-files don't belong to me.**

October 17, 1972

Martha's Vineyard

Chilmark, Massachusetts

4:13 pm

The small girl leapt onto the vacated playground swing with a triumphant cry of glee.

''Beat you, Missy!'' she cried happily, adjusting her position so that she faced forwards and scanning the darkening landscape for her sister.

''Beat you big time!'' she called at the top of her voice, her eyes still flitting from side to side. Dark, greying clouds were beginning to gather in the sky, which was lucky for them really, Dana thought, as the small playground seemed completely devoid of any children, apart from herself, of course, and-

''Missy!'' Dana cried impatiently, having just spotted a small figure sauntering around by the trees in the distance, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground, which was strewn with brown leaves. As her sister watched, Missy bent and picked one up, examining it carefully with a broad smile on her face.

Dana groaned in exasperation. ''You weren't even trying to win the race, were you?''

Her sister didn't hear her, or, what was more likely, simply pretended not to. Melissa lived in her own little world, but that didn't mean she was deaf.

''C'mon Missy!'' Dana tried again, ''We've got the whole playground to ourselves!'' She put her full force into the swing, urging it to go as high as it could, but somehow it wasn't the same.

''It's no fun by myself!'' she complained from her position in the air.

All her sister did, was bend down to retrieve another brown leaf from the ground.

''Oh, come _on_!'' Dana shouted angrily, ''That one looks just like the other one! You're just doing this to annoy me!''

And it was working, she thought bitterly. Well, she was sure she could annoy Missy even more.

''I'll stop doing this when you come,'' she informed her sister calmly, then took a deep breath and began chanting: ''MIS-SY! MIS-SY! MIS-SY!'' at the top of her voice. She saw her sister cringe slightly, but as she made no sign of coming, and merely held up the leaf to the light, as if checking for holes, Dana redoubled her efforts.

So absorbed was she in this self-appointed task, that she barely noticed the swing next to her being mounted by a girl.

''MIS-SY! MIS-SY! MIS-SY!''

The girl giggled, then added her voice to the chant. Startled, Dana looked around, to meet the girl's smiling face. She was a young girl, younger than Dana by about a year, with her long dark hair divided into two plaits and wearing overalls. The girl rubbed her nose self consciously, and Dana grinned at her. She had someone to play with now, but that didn't mean she was going to let Missy off the hook so easily.

''Wanna help me?'' she asked the girl, whose face split into a grin as she nodded eagerly.

''Alright then,'' Dana said importantly, as befits the chief-in-command, ''One, two, three-GO''

They began to bellow Missy's name again, but this time it was far less distinguishable than before, as Dana's rhythm was too fast, the girl's too slow, not to mention the fact that they broke off every now and then to lapse into uncontrolled fits of laughter.

A sudden wind gust swept through the playground, causing a cascade of brightly colored leaves to be swept from the trees behind Missy.

''Ooh, look!'' the girl said, pointing excitedly at the different shades of browns and reds and yellows in the air, ''Like golden butterflies!''

Dana grinned, as she too watched the leaves fall in silence.

''SAM!''

Both of then turned, Dana startled, the girl with a happy laugh.

''Fox!'' she shouted and jumped off her swing to meet the irritated boy. Dana looked at him curiously. He was tall, his brown hair sticking up at different points, as if he had recently run his hand through it quite often. And he was old. Really, really old, practically an adult. Even older than Melissa, and she was _ten_!

He was shouting at the girl, Sam, who was was shouting back with spirit.

''I _told_ you not to leave our property!''

''Did not!''

''Did too, you little liar!''

''Liar yourself. You told me _last_ time we played, not this time!''

''Well, it's obvious, isn't it? That's just cheating, Sam! You can't play hide-and-seek with someone in their garden-''

'' 'S my garden too,'' she mumbled. The boy ignored her.

''And then, just run off to the stupid playground! It's not even the one closest to our house! I've been looking for you for ages!''

She shrugged dejectedly. ''How'd you find me?''

He snorted. ''I'm your brother, Sam. I'm always gonna find you.''

He seemed to notice Dana, who was still sitting on her, now stationary, swing, for the first time.

''Sorry,'' he said with a sheepish grin, ''My sister's a bit weird sometimes..''

Dana laughed. ''I don't think she's weird. Look at _my _sister-'' pointing to Missy who was walking behind an oak with her arms full of leaves, ''_She's_ weird. But it's not really her fault,'' Dana said dismissively, ''Aliens abducted her and she's been a bit confused ever since.''

Sam laughed, but her brother only snorted.

Dana had recently seen a documentary on alien abduction on TV, and had bored her family stiff with what she had learned. Since that day, she had referred to Bill as an alien spy, Missy as an abductee and Charlie as a failed experiment, until Ahab had threatened to ground her for a month if she didn't stop. But now she had wanted to impress the boy and his sister with her superior knowledge.

''You don't really believe in that crap, do you?'' the boy asked her, fixing her with a sardonic eye. Dana felt her face flush. ''Well, maybe not that my sister is an abductee, but the rest is true. Aliens and stuff.''

He scoffed. ''Oh, come on.. it's just a story to frighten little kids.'' He looked at her with all the superiority of an eleven-year-old, ''But, I s'pose, that's what you are..''

''Shut up!'' Dana jumped from her swing angrily, clenching her little fists together as she faced the boy, who had stopped smirking now. It took all her willpower not to aim a punch at him. She probably would have, if he hadn't been quiet so tall and old, although that had never stopped her before. Maybe it was because his little sister was standing next to him...

''I've seen a documentary about it,'' she told him proudly, ''That means I'm an expert!''

''Where's your proof?'' he asked.

She hesitated, biting her lower lip. He had her there.

''Well, it's true,'' she said defensively, ''Just because you can't prove something, doesn't make it a lie!''

He simply shrugged. ''Fine, if you say so.. C'mon Sam, let's go home, before mom kills us..''

''Yeah, that's right,'' Dana jeered, ''Run away!''

The boy turned around, and she was surprised to find that he was grinning. ''Bye, little Miss weirdo!''

If anyone else had called her that, she would have launched herself at them, without any consideration for her opponent's height, age or the presence of a younger sibling. But this boy's smile didn't tease or mock. It felt genuine.

So all she did was shout: ''Bye, Mr Know-it-all!''

Sam turned too, and waved.

''Missy?'' Dana asked her sister tentatively on their way home. Missy had collected so many leaves, that both the girls were clutching small piles of browns and reds and yellows to their chests.

''Hmm?'' Melissa asked in her dreamy way.

''Are aliens real?''

Melissa laughed. ''Of course they are, Dana.. Why would you even have to ask such a thing?''

That did it. If Missy believed in them, _Missy_, who claimed she could sense people's energy, and who had bought a book on palmistry only two days ago, if Missy believed in them, they couldn't be real. Dana felt slightly disappointed, but more than slightly relieved that she had found out before she had been to her new school and had a chance to embarrass herself in front of her classmates.

She made a mental note never to believe anything without proof again.

**Thanks for reading :)**

**Please tell me what you thought!**


	2. Reason for the Rabbit Hunt

December 20, 1968

Scully Residence

Outskirts of Murrells Inlet, South Carolina

11:02 a.m.

A silence followed her words. The loudest silence he had ever heard.

Bill Jr. was red in the face, speechless with indignation, shaking with suppressed rage.

''She's lying,'' he told his friends curtly, gruffly, as if daring them to suggest differently. The silence was broken, and a few scattered sniggers rippled through the group of muddy, damp boys.

''She's lying!'' Bill Jr. shouted again; angry, desperate now.

There was no answer, but he could see the suppressed smirks on their faces. See the doubt.

Furious, he turned to the small redheaded girl standing in front of him. If he went at her now, it was as good as a confession. But it would make him feel so much better...

With a tremendous effort he suppressed the urge and said in a sweet voice, as befits addressing a small child: ''Dana, you know you're not supposed to lie. Tell them the truth.''

The small girl scowled at him, her thin arms crossed defiantly over her brown winter coat. He saw a flicker of the tiniest of smiles cross her face and his heart sank. She was going to stick to it.

''I _am_ telling the truth, you know I am,'' she said innocently, addressing the group of boys standing behind him, rather than her brother, ''You wet the bed today, I saw Mom cleaning it up, not yesterday, but the day before-''

She didn't get any further, for at that point he had seen red. With a furious roar, he launched himself at his sister, not caring what happened to him afterwards, as long as he could hurt her. He just wanted to make her pay.

She managed to dodge him, and ran to the house behind them, her little ponytail bobbing in the wind. With a muttered oath, he tore after her. He could hear his friends howling with laughter behind him, and knew it must be a comical sight: a seven-year-old boy accused of bedwetting, running after his four-year-old sister. And failing to catch her too.. although he could have outstripped her easily, she kept on veering to either side of her, flitting through the trees of the forrest by their house, and his superior speed was no advantage.

''You come here, you little-''

How he wished that he knew a few more swearwords.

He'd nearly caught up to her now. Nearly, nearly-

''Daddy!'' she cried, spotting the stout man walking towards them, and she ran up to him, using his bulk as a shield between herself and her brother.

''What's the matter, Dana?'' he asked, frowning at Bill Jr. suspiciously. Bill felt angry tears in his eyes, as he looked up at his father. Dana would get her way now, the little snitch. Just because he was older and she was a girl. If she had hidden behind their mother, Bill Jr. would have probably lunged for her anyway. But their father was a different matter entirely.

It took a while for him to speak through his rage and exhaustion.

''She..she told lies about me.. in front...of my friends,'' he finally gasped, still panting from the chase, ''Sir,'' he added as an afterthought.

''They weren't lies!'' she said defensively, from behind her bulky shield, ''You _did_ wet your bed today!''

''Shut up!'' Now his father knew! He was going to kill her!

''They weren't lies,'' she repeated stoutly.

''You said that I wet my bed every other week,'' he cried, almost beyond himself with rage and embarrassment, taking one step towards her in spite of himself.

William Scully turned to his daughter, with a look of surprise on his face.

''But Dana, that isn't a nice thing to do, you should know better.''

Bill Jr. blinked. Was she actually going to be blamed?

She shuffled her feet, and sniffed self-consciously. The tip of her nose had turned red from the cool air.

''They were having a snowball fight and I wanted to join and Bill said no.''

Their father raised his eyebrows. ''And that's why you humiliated your brother in front of his friends? Dana, you have to learn to take these things more calmly..''

''But it was the way he said it, Dad,'' she mumbled, ''He said that they didn't want little girls who mess everything up.. so I told him it wasn't just little girls who mess stuff up.''

''Bill Jr.,'' William Scully said, turning to his son, who was outraged that he was going to be blamed for not wanting his small sister around when he played with his friends. And after his humiliation, too..

''Yes, sir?'' he asked, trying to keep the bitterness in his voice to a minimum.

''I doubt I'll have to tell you not to insult your sister in the future,'' his lips twitched, as if he were trying not to smile, ''Now you know that she won't let it rest that easily. And next time, come to me or Mom, don't fly at your sister. You're her older brother.''

Bill Jr. felt his cheeks burn, but he knew there was no use in arguing. He nodded silently. He hadn't insulted her half as much as she had insulted him. In front of all his friends! But younger kids always got away with anything..

''And Dana,'' their father went on, ''You know it's wrong to make up stories about people-''

Bill Jr. almost scoffed. Of course she knew!

''-and you really hurt people that way. I know you wouldn't like that-''

Of course she would!

''-so I'm going to ask you to apologize to your brother.''

''Yes, sir,'' she whispered, ''Sorry, Bill.'' Awkwardly.

''Bill Jr.?''

''Yeah,'' Bill mumbled, ''I'm sorry too.''

The lie only came so easily, because he had already thought of a way to get back at her.

As their father led the way back to the house, Bill Jr. nudged his little sister, and leant close to her ear to hiss: ''Better keep an eye on that rabbit of yours, Dana. We don't want anything to happen to him, do we?''


	3. Fear

November 24, 1973

St. Peter Catholic School

Boca Raton, Florida

5:15 p.m.

Dana scanned the ebbing crowd of students streaming from the school with a mingled feeling of anger and frustration. Where was he?

She didn't see why she needed to be walked home anyway, she was old enough. _Nine _years old. She wasn't a baby anymore. But if that couldn't be helped, her brother should at least be on time...

She knew Bill's loathing of Thursdays was equalled only by her own, which meant that he was usually at the entrance of the school before her, eager to get the whole thing over with.

Thursday was the only day in the week that Bill and Dana got to leave school at the same time, which also meant that they _had_ to leave school at the same time, a prospect neither of them was all too enthusiastic about.

Their house was about twenty minutes away, and usually their mother didn't care whether her children walked home together or not. The obvious exception, of course, being Thursday, where both Dana and Bill had classes until five p.m., and dusk had already fallen.

Bill would usually slouch by her side, in one of his moody silences, the shame of an annoying little sister tagging along behind him almost too much to bear for his sixth grade pride. Dana would be skipping from one foot to another impatiently, longing to run. Sometimes she tried to persuade Bill, arguing that the long, boring, twenty-minute-walk could easily be reduced to ten, if he would just swallow his pride; only to have him tell her harshly to shut up. This, in turn, would usually lead to them arguing the entire way and arriving at their house ill-tempered and fuming.

Dana sighed and surveyed her watch. Fifteen minutes after the bell had rung. They could have been home in five minutes by now, if Bill had been there on time...

Maybe he had to stay in after class. Maybe he had detention. The thought made her snigger.

Well, she wasn't going to wait here for another hour, she'd wasted enough time as it was. And now she would be able to run!

She snatched up her schoolbag and set off, reveling in her newfound freedom. She seldom got a chance to be completely alone, much less after dusk had fallen. Generally at least one of her three siblings was in calling distance. Not that she minded on a whole, but it was a pleasantly unfamiliar sensation, all the same..

Suddenly, all the streetlights went on, and Dana skidded to a halt, admiring the sight. Never before had it seemed quite so pretty as it did now. This time there was no Bill there to shove her forwards impatiently, and she stood quite still, mesmerized, and feeling ridiculously like her sister. But she just couldn't help it.

She was about to turn and set off again, when a harsh whisper made her jump, and look round anxiously.

''All alone, girly-girl?''

Dana scanned down the street from where the whisper had seemed to come. It looked deserted. But he could easily be standing in one of the dark patches which weren't lighted by either of the streetlamps. She felt an involuntary shiver run through her body, as she forced herself not to run. It was probably Bill anyway. He had a knack for altering his voice.

''I know it's you, Bill!'' she shouted into the darkness, wondering why she was feeling so uneasy, and hoping her brother didn't notice the quaver in her voice.

No answer.

''Come out, Bill! This isn't funny!''

Still no answer.

''Bill Scully Jr. eats his boogers after breakfast!'' That would get him.

The shrill cry reverberated down the deserted streets. Silence.

Dana moistened her lips. Alright, so this wasn't Bill. But it had been a boy's voice. Just a boy. She could take him. Why did she feel so scared then?

Just then, a car passed down the street, with loud music blaring from it. It seemed to break the tension, and Dana felt the fear leave her slightly. What was she doing here? Cowering on a street corner like a scared rabbit? Bill and Charlie wouldn't stop winding her up about it if they ever found out..

Repressing the urge to cry insults at the boy, she turned on the spot and resumed her homeward way, deliberately walking at a slow pace. She longed to get away as fast as she could, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, whoever he was. Nevertheless, she strained her ears for any sound of approaching footsteps from behind, but all she could hear was the muffled blaring of the car's rock music growing steadily more distant, and the small thuds her feet made on the sidewalk.

''Aren't you scared, girly-girl?''

Dana's blood ran cold. She screamed in shock, and almost tripped over her own feet as she stumbled forwards. She only looked back long enough to make out a tall dark figure standing close by, before she turned and ran.

So close. The feeling of his hot breath on her right ear as he whispered. That voice.

Running. Running, with only the faintest sense of where she was headed. All she knew was that she wanted to get away. Now. Quick.

Was he following her? She was too afraid to turn round. Too afraid at what she would see. She was panting now, little frightened gasps escaping her.

Her stomach plummeted as she rounded a corner that should have led to her house. Only it didn't. She must have taken a wrong turning somewhere. She came to a halt, in spite of herself, considering which way to go. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her arm painfully, making her shriek. Strong. Menacing. And the boy towering over her now, taller than Bill, his face half-hidden in shadow. He was grinning. Leering.

''Nowhere to hide, girly-girl. Nowhere to run to.''

Her heart beating painfully against her chest. Paralyzed with fear. Do something! Do something!

Surely someone would hear her, she could see lights in the windows to either side of her. She opened her mouth to scream. And his other hand descended upon it, clasping it shut. He had an awkward grip on her though, and before he could adjust it, she had sunk her teeth into the fleshy palm of his hand. He yelled in pain, relinquishing his hold on her momentarily, and she was off, tearing down the street. She would knock on the first door she got to, but then her eyes fell on a house that was familiar. Her house! It hadn't been the wrong street after all! She sprinted up to the door, colliding against it with her outstretched palms. She could hear an irritated groan from somewhere in the house and knew her mother had heard her. She pounded against the door anyway.

''Mom! Mom! Let me in!''

She could feel a presence behind her and knew it was him.

''Let me in!''

A snap. As if someone had stepped on a twig. Her head whipped round in spite of herself. Nothing. The street was deserted.

The door was opened, revealing Missy holding a string of brightly colored beads in her hand.

''Mom says you know better than to slam into the...'' her voice trailed away as she saw her sister's expression.

''Dana?''

Dana, who had leapt into the house and shut the door behind her, was leaning against it. She could feel herself trembling.

''Dana, are you bleeding?''

Dana put her hand to her lips absentmindedly. Something wet. Blood. She must have bitten him harder than she thought.

''Mom,'' Missy called, ''Something's wrong with Dana!''

Margaret Scully came into the hallway, looking anxious.

''What's wrong? Where's Bill? Didn't-''

She stopped there, because her youngest daughter had flung herself into her arms and was sobbing uncontrollably. The sight of Dana crying was not a usual one, and she could feel her mother stiffen in fear and shock as she pressed her daughter tightly, just as Charlie came into the room, looking confused.

Dana trudged upstairs a couple of minutes later, feeling shaken and embarrassed and still frightened all at once. Instead of going into her and Missy's room, she headed to the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock.

Stupid, she told herself, as she sat against the bathroom door, with her knees drawn to her chest. So stupid. There was no need to have felt that kind of terror. He was only a boy. She had acted like a little girl. A little, terrified girl. Stupid!

She repeated this to herself many times, but still, she didn't leave the bathroom.

She was still there when her mother asked her through the door, asked her what had happened. She was still there when Bill Jr. finally returned home, bewildered and defiant as his mother shouted at him. She was still there when Bill knocked on the door and told her he was sorry. He had gone home with a friend and forgotten all about her. Told her it wouldn't happen again. Promised he'd always be there for her from no on. She was still there when Charlie offered to give her the last cookie if she came out. She was still there when Missy crept to the bathroom door late at night.

''Dana?''

She didn't answer.

''Come on, Dana. It can't be comfortable in there..''

Silence.

''This is stupid, Dana. People have to go to the bathroom once in a while. You know my bladder's the size of a peanut!''

That elicited an unwilling giggle. She could hear Melissa laugh too.

''Come on, Dana. I promise I won't ask you what happened..''

Dana sighed and got to her feet. She knew she couldn't stay locked in the bathroom for the rest of her life. She was surprised they had all managed to keep it in this long, anyway. She pushed the lock back and opened the door slowly. Melissa beamed.

''Missy?'' she asked in a small voice, feeling utterly idiotic.

''What?''

''You think I can sleep in your bed tonight?''

Melissa paused, clearly taken aback by this unDana-like request, then her face split into a smile.

''Sure you can. Come on, then.''

''I thought you had to go to the bathroom.''

''I already went in the garden.''

Dana snorted. ''No! Really?''

Missy just shrugged.

Five minutes later in Missy's bed, with her could feet warming against her sister's, Dana felt her body relax for the first time since she had heard that whisper. Although she usually played more with her two brothers, preferring their rough games to Missy's girlish hobbies, she always came to her sister, if she needed to be comforted or reassured. She'd always sensed that there was something special between them, that she didn't share with either of her brothers.

Her thoughts turned back to the deserted dark street. It was stupid. _She_ was stupid to let a little thing like that scare the hell out of her. And now, her whole family would think she was weak..

''Missy?''

''What now?'' But she was smiling again.

''You think mom will tell Ahab?''

Missy hesitated.

''I don't think so, if you don't want her to.. '' she finally said. ''And if you're feeling better tomorrow,'' she added as an afterthought.

Dana sighed in relief.

''Don't worry. I'll be feeling better tomorrow.''


	4. the Fight

July 10, 1974

St. Peter Catholic School, schoolyard

Boca Raton, Florida

10:13 a.m.

A hubbub of indistinct excited voices.

Cheers and shouts. Taunts and laughter.

Melissa paused for a moment, eying the small group of children in the distance with a sad smile.

'How juvenile,' she thought.

The children formed a semicircle around the scene that so captivated them, the kids at the back either trying to squeeze to the front or standing on tiptoe, craning their necks.

How could they get so worked up about a playground fight? So excited about violence?

She took a bite of her apple, and was just about to turn away, when she saw the unusual sight of Sarah Bixle running towards the group of children as fast as her chubby legs would allow.

''Sarah!'' Melissa shouted, making her friend skid to a halt and look around, pink in the face and panting.

Melissa waved and beckoned, but Sarah shook her head.

''I gotta see this!'' she called, ''It's Dave Stevens!'' With that she half-waddled, half-ran the rest of the way to the others.

Melissa nearly choked on her apple. Dave Stevens? The heartthrob of the sixth grade?

Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself approaching in the gaggle of excited kids, pushing past the small first-graders to get a better look.

_Her _Dave Stevens? She felt her face blush at the very thought of him.

She had fallen, quite spontaneously and incurably, in love with him about a month ago, when he had smiled back at her as they passed each other in the hallway. Melissa made it a habit of beaming at everyone she passed, but this was the first time she had received something other than a frown or an embarrassed grimace. This, she had decided, was definitely a sign that they were meant for each other.

And now, her soulmate was actually fighting some other kid in the playground? There had to be some kind of mistake..

But no, there he was, wrestling with another boy on the gravelly asphalt. His hands in front of his face as his opponent aimed a punch at him and for a moment Melissa's heart nearly stopped as she saw the red hair, thinking it to be her little brother Charlie. But no, Charlie's hair was shorter and- and now Melissa's heart really did stop, or so it seemed to her.

There, rolling on the dirty asphalt with the only boy she had ever loved and would ever love, pounding at every piece of his body she could get to, was her little sister! Her shoulder-length fiery hair flying furiously from side to side, as if it too were egging her on like the others, her white shirt grimy, her bare knees red and bleeding from the gravel, her face a single expression of passionate fury.

''Dana!'' Melissa screamed, outraged, pushing past the rest of the kids to get to her sister, ''Dana! Get off! Leave him alone! Leave him alone!''

She got to her sister and wrenched her off the cowering boy.

''Let me go! Let me go!'' Dana shouted, managing to kick Dave Stevens in the stomach as she squirmed in her sister's grasp.

''What is going on here?!''

A sudden hush fell over the group of onlookers as the speaker pushed past them. The only ones seemingly oblivious to the change in the atmosphere were the three struggling children in their midst, the youngest of which was hurling a volume of swearwords at the boy, trying in vain to tear free of the older girl's grasp.

''Dana Katherine Scully!'' Mr Edwards exclaimed in a mortified tone, having finally recognized one of his best students.

Melissa jumped at the teacher's voice and let go of her sister in spite of herself. But before Dana could launch herself at Dave Stevens again, Mr Edwards, seeing the potential danger, had grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.

''Missy! Let _go_!'' Dana shouted, turning furiously, only to look into the stern and rather red (for the swearwords she had uttered weren't commonly heard at the Catholic school) face of her educator.

''Oh,'' she said in a small voice, ''Hello, sir.''

Five minutes later all three of them were sitting in front of the principal's desk, avoiding each other's eyes.

''So,'' Mrs Devon sighed wearily, massaging her forehead, ''Let's get to the bottom of this. Who started the fight?''

No one answered.

Dave was holding an icepack over his nose and staring straight ahead; Dana was glaring at her shoes, her hands clenched together over the tartan skirt of her school uniform; Melissa was biting her lip, wondering if there was the slightest possibility that Dave didn't _know_ that she was related to Dana. She dismissed the hope sadly, cursing their telltale hair color.

''No one?'' Mrs Devon asked testily, ''Do you want me to drag witnesses out of their classes? I know there were enough- Excuse me? Speak up.''

This was directed to Dave, who had just mumbled something indistinct.

''She just attacked me,'' Dave said more loudly, pointing an accusing finger at her sister, ''She ought to be locked up!''

''Is that true, Dana?'' Mrs Devon asked, fixing her gaze at the frowning girl.

The tiniest of shrugs.

''Why?'' Mrs Devon asked incredulously, ''You're one of the top students here- you've never been involved in anything like this before..''

'That's only because we've been here little more than a year,' Melissa thought, remembering countless other occasions when her sister had been involved in fights, both in the schoolyard and out. But never before had she seen her in such a passionate fury, had seen such a deep loathing in her eyes as today. She usually walked away from her opponent after a couple of good blows.

''Why, Dana?'' Mrs Devon asked again.

Another shrug.

''David, did you say anything to provoke her?''

''No,'' he said indignantly, turning red.

''Dana? Did he say anything to you?''

Dana bit her lip and said nothing.

Mrs Devon sighed. ''Alright, if that's the way you want it.. I'm calling your mother to have a little chat.. Melissa, you can go back to your classroom now. David, I think you should go to the school nurse. Maybe I should call your mother as well, so she can pick you up-''

''No,'' Dave said quickly, and Melissa knew he was thinking of the humiliation if he had to be taken home after a fight with a girl two years younger than himself. The rest of the school was bound to remember the incident anyway, and would make sure he didn't forget either..

To think that her sister was the reason for Dave Stevenson's discomfort made Melissa want to scream at her.

How could she? She knew Melissa liked him. But that was probably the reason why her sister had wanted to hurt him...

She remembered the confused and slightly indignant expression on Dana's face, when Melissa had finally confided her feelings about Dave Stevenson a few weeks ago.

''What?'' she had asked in a bewildered voice, ''You _like_ _boys_ now?''

Melissa had explained that it was just the way of the world, that she was growing up.

''But you're not even a teenager yet, Missy,'' Dana had insisted desperately.

''That doesn't mean I'm not growing up,'' Melissa had said.

When she had told Dana that she would grow up some day too, and start liking boys, Dana had stood up abruptly and marched out of their room to join Bill Jr. and Charlie who were playing soccer in the garden.

Dana probably thought it was Dave Stevenson's fault that her sister was becoming more mature...

When Melissa returned from school, Dana was lying on her bed still in her grimy school uniform, glowering up at the ceiling.

''I'm grounded for two weeks,'' Dana informed her sister, her eyes still fixed on the peeling white paint of the ceiling, ''_And _Mom says she'll tell Ahab when he gets back, which means I'll probably get another two weeks..''

Melissa made no response, as she rummaged in her drawers for clothes. She was determined not to speak to her little sister for the rest of the day.

Dana rolled to one side, looking hurt.

''Don't start ignoring me, Missy. You know I hate it when you do that..''

Melissa turned her back on her sister, unbuttoning her school shirt.

''He _deserved_ it, Missy.''

Melissa threw her shirt to the ground and pulled her favorite blue blouse decorated with flowers over her head.

''He's a jerk, Missy. He is!''

Melissa struggled into her pants with difficulty as her moving space was confined to the small corner behind the wardrobe door where her sister couldn't see her.

''Did the other kids make fun of him for getting himself beaten up by me?'' Dana asked suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

''Dana, shut _up_!'' Melissa shouted, goaded beyond endurance.

''I only did it because-'' Dana started defensively.

''Because what?'' Melissa asked, looking at her sister who had turned red.

''Nothin','' she mumbled.

''Because you can't stand the idea of me liking a boy,'' Melissa answered for her.

''No!'' Dana shouted, angry tears in her eyes now, ''Because I can't stand the idea of you liking _him_!''

''Oh, come on, Dana! You don't even know him!''

''I'm going outside,'' Dana announced suddenly, slipping off her bed.

''You can't. You're grounded.''

''Oh.''

Melissa suppressed the sudden urge to giggle as Dana slumped back onto the bed with ill grace. Her sister wasn't used to being grounded.

''You mean I can't even go into the garden?'' she asked desperately.

Melissa shook her head. ''Nope, that wouldn't be a punishment then, would it?''

Dana groaned. ''And all because of that stupid Stevenson! Why'd you ever write those letters to that jerk, you don't even- '' she stopped short, but it was too late, it was out now.

''How come you know about those letters?'' Melissa asked quietly, feeling her face beginning to burn. She hadn't had the courage to approach Dave in front of his circle of admirers, who never seemed to leave his side, so she had slipped him a letter the other day.

Dana shrugged, looking awkward.

''Dana, _tell_ me!''

''He was reading out bits of it,'' Dana finally whispered, avoiding her sister's eyes, ''During break. And they were all laughing, and he was making jokes about..'' her voice trailed away.

The blood rushed to Melissa's head. She felt faint. Dizzy. No, it couldn't be. She had.. What had she put in that letter? She could feel the tears prick her eyes, and then she was sobbing, turning away from her sister in shame.

''Missy, I'm sorry,'' Dana whispered, leaning towards her. Melissa looked down at her sister, trying to smile. That was why Dana had been so angry, so furious. Because of her. Because he'd hurt her. If she hadn't been feeling so miserable, she would have lifted her from the bed and hugged her. That was why Dana hadn't told anyone, she hadn't wanted to expose or hurt Melissa. She had even accepted two weeks of confinement to the house..

''I'll tell Mom, Dana,'' Melissa sniffed, squeezing her sister's hand, ''You'll probably be.. be allowed to go into the garden..''

''I'm really sorry,'' Dana said again, ''.. But, you know what?'', in a brighter voice, ''I think I broke his nose..''


	5. Death

March 23, 1970

Rose Scully residence

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

9:23 p.m.

''You know, I've met Cary Grant once..''

The children groaned in unison, all except for Charlie, who had been too young to remember their last visit.

He and Dana were stretched out on the bright scarlet rug, lying on their stomachs, their heads propped in their hands as they gazed at the old woman. Missy was sitting on the arm of her squashy chair, looking over her shoulder as her fingers moved mechanically, knitting a seemingly endless scarf. Bill was wandering around the enormous bookshelves, glancing at the small figurines of glass clowns and animals.

''Who's Karry Grant?'' Charlie asked cheerfully, ignoring Missy's frantic shaking of the head.

''You don't _know_?'' their grandmother asked, looking at the small boy in disbelief, ''Have you no sense of cultural heritage at all, Charles?''

''He's only four, Mom,'' William Scully called over to her from the dining room table, where he was playing cards with his wife.

''Phsaw,'' the old woman dismissed her son with a wave of her hand, ''Cultural education can't start early enough, Billy!''

''Mother, please don't call me that..''

''I call him Ahab,'' Dana informed her grandmother proudly, eager to show that she at least was paying attention to her cultural education.

''That's nice, dear,'' her gran murmured, ''But we were on the subject of Cary Grant.'' Rose Scully didn't hold literature in such high esteem as motion pictures.

''Did you know that I met him in the summer of '41?''

''We _know_, gran,'' Bill Jr. all but groaned.

''You've told us a thousand times already,'' Missy whined.

''More like a _million_,'' Dana amended, thinking it was best to be accurate about such things.

''Charles hasn't heard yet,'' their gran said stoutly, ''So, where was I? I wish you children would stop interrupting.. ah, yes. The summer of '41 and you're dad was at school, otherwise he would have seen him too. _School_. Such a waste of time.. you need to go out into the world-''

''But who _is _he?'' Charlie asked, earning him a punch on the shoulder from his sister.

''Ouch! Quit it, Dana!''

''He was a movie star, Charles,'' grandma Rose said patiently, ''Very big in the mid 30s to.. oh, the 50s, really..''

''What 30s?'' Charlie asked, edging to one side to avoid Dana's kick.

''Don't ask such imbecilic questions, Charles. The _19_30s.''

''Oh. But that was ages ago.''

''It was.. and a grand time too, young Charles.. hard, but extraordinary..''

Charlie looked as if he were about to ask why it was hard and what the word extraordinary meant, but Dana caught his eye, and he seemed to think better of it.

''Cary Grant...'' the old woman went on dreamily. There was a nostalgic gleam in her eye that Dana just loved to look at. It made her feel proud to be the granddaughter of a woman who had lived in hard but extraordinary times, and met Cary Grant in front an automat in New York by accident. It made her feel connected to the past, feel part of something bigger than the life she knew.

She didn't really pay attention to the lecture of the best and worse Cary Grant movies, she had heard it all before, but just sat there, head in hands, gazing at the smile on her grandmother's face, and the twinkle in her eyes.

Suddenly she stopped talking, and rose from her armchair abruptly, making Melissa jump.

''I'm tired,'' she announced, throwing her knitting to the floor indifferently, ''I'm going to bed. Who's turn is it, today?''

The Scully children took it in turns to spend the night in her large bed, and as they were staying exactly four nights, it had been easy to agree on a schedule without too much arguing. All of them (even nine-year-old Bill Jr.) loved spending the night with Rose Scully, as the child permitted to sleep over was always treated to a small story from the hard but extraordinary 1930s.

''My turn!'' Dana cried excitedly, jumping to her feet.

''Well, come on then,'' her grandmother snapped, ruining the effect by winking, ''Time and tide waits for no man..''

Ten minutes later, Dana was lying in the large bed, the patchwork quilt held up to her chin as she listened to Rose Scully's account of the Great Depression with wide eyes.

''See, I was working in a roadside diner at the time... that meant I got to meet all the interesting people, got to learn all their stories, their hopes and fears, their misfortune...But I can tell you one thing, young Dana: they didn't let it get them down, no matter in how bad a spot they were in. They had pride. Dignity. But something more than that: plain human goodness. They weren't afraid of life, and of death neither. That's when I was first convinced that life ain't all that bad. Nor are most people, if you get to know them a little. That made me proud to be human.''

Dana listened, enthralled.

''Right!'' her grandmother snapped briskly, clapping her hands together and making Dana flinch, ''I'm exhausted. Let's turn the lights off!''

She dreamed of the small roadside diner her grandmother had described, vivid, bright colors, under a faint layer of sepia. She was sitting at the counter, eating a fried egg sandwich, which was her favorite in the world. Her eyes never left the young woman in the pink dress and white apron, who was serving coffee to all the other people at the counter, chatting and listening, laughing and shaking her head in regret. Dana knew this woman was her grandmother, although she wasn't exactly sure how. She just did.

The bell by the door clattered loudly as someone came into the room. A young man, his dark red hair pushed back from his eyes under his titled cap, his white shirt grimy from dust and sweat, his boots covered in dry mud. He smiled at Dana's grandmother, the warmest, happiest smile the little girl had ever seen, and her grandmother put down the coffee pot she was holding with a bang.

''That's it!'' she said grimly, throwing her apron to the ground, ''I quit!''

The man held out his hand to her and she took it, clambering over the counter to join him. None of the other people so much as turned to look, all except for Dana, who stood up and shouted:

''Where're you going, gran?''

The woman turned, and smiled at her. She leaned to the man and whispered something in his ear, and he grinned too. Both of them waved at the little girl, who waved back, feeling confused, then they turned and left the diner.

Disregarding her half-finished egg sandwich, she hurried after them, pushing the door open and-

Dana woke up with a start, breathing heavily, as if she had just been dreaming a terrible nightmare. She turned to her sleeping grandmother and shook her.

''I just had the weirdest dream, gran. You'd like it!''

The old woman didn't move.

''Hey, gran! Wake up!''

Still no movement.

Suddenly it dawned upon the little girl, something big and scary and unknown, something she had never really thought about and Dana shook her grandmother harder, panic blossoming in her chest.

The old woman lay still.

Dana held out two trembling fingers under her grandmother's nose, then drew them away quickly, as if she had been burned. She wasn't breathing.

She put her small hand on her grandmother's cheek, and forced herself not to flinch away. Was this what death felt like? Cold.. cold in death and warm in life..

She should do something. Get her mom, get Ahab, tell them, _cry_.

She _should_ cry. Her gran was dead. Why wasn't she crying?

Dana never cried. It frightened her when people cried. She didn't know what to do, how to comfort. But now, there was a good reason to cry. So why wasn't she?

She felt numb. Sad too, but not as sad as she was supposed to. She should feel sadder. Her grandmother was gone. She should cry.

''Gran?'' she whispered into the darkness, ''Can you hear me?''

She should be in heaven now, shouldn't she? That's what they taught her in Sunday school. But her body was still here, so she would be able to look like anything now, wouldn't she? Would she look like the young woman from the diner, or keep the shape Dana had known best, loved dearest. Or something else entirely?

''Gran,'' Dana whispered again, desperate for her to understand. It felt so strange to speak aloud. Her voice was higher than usual. No one was in the room with her, except for the lifeless woman.

''I don't know why I'm not crying. I'm sorry. I loved you. Maybe I can't cry like other people. But don't think I didn't love you, because I did!''

Had she heard?

She should get Ahab. Get her son.

Dana looked around the dark room, feeling uneasy. She would have to go to the door, without any lights to guide her. She knew that darkness couldn't hurt her. She knew that, and still, she was afraid. And then, she would have to go down that long, narrow corridor, to reach her parent's bedroom. The light of the corridor had blown a fuse, she remembered her grandmother complaining about it. But what was the alternative? Stay in bed with her dead gran until the sun came out?

She took a deep breath, then slid off the bed. The wooden floor seemed so cold against her bare feet. Was it dead, too?

She edged towards the door, her hand held out blindly in front of her. Of course it was dead. A tree had been killed. The tree had been alive. The wood was now dead.

She reached a wall and began feeling her way along it, her heart beating painfully against her chest. She shouldn't be afraid of the dark. Darkness couldn't hurt her.

She sighed in relief as her numb fingers came into contact with the light switch. Darkness meant nothing.

The room was flooded with light and her eyes were drawn to the figure lying on the bed. Still. Motionless. Darkness meant death.

Dana opened the door and stepped out into the corridor, leaving it ajar, so that a reasonable amount of light was let through. Her parent's room was at the very end. She would have to pass doors on either side to get to it. Doors, behind which anything could be lurking.

No, that was stupid. She knew that one of the rooms led to the bathroom. The others were where Missy and her brothers were sleeping. No need to be afraid.

She forced her step to be slow and measured as she made her way down the corridor. Show them, that she wasn't afraid. Not of life, and of death, neither, as her gran had used to say. Used to say.

This was an old house, it had been old when her grandmother had first moved in. How many people had died in it now? Rose Scully had just made one more. How many ghosts were drifting in and out of the rooms? Were bound to this house for all eternity?

No, she was being stupid. She was acting like a silly little girl. Ghosts didn't exist. She knew that.

A floorboard creaked under her weight, and she couldn't take it anymore, but ran. Ran to her parent's room as fast as she could, making both of them sit up in bed, as she burst through the door. She was crying now, finally, thankfully. Her gran would have proof that she had loved her now.

''What's the matter, Dana?'' her father asked, forgetting to call her Starbuck in his agitation.

And then she told them.


	6. Nine minutes

August 17, 1976

Manners Park

Annapolis, Maryland

2:50 p.m.

Charlie Scully turned on the spot, looking for any sign of his sister. He was still panting from his last-minute-run to the park, convinced she was already there and waiting for him. He glanced at his watch. Seven past three. Seven minutes after they had arranged to meet here, and Dana was never late... Wait a minute- he looked at his watch again, frowning.

Hadn't it been seven past three when he had checked at home? It was this that had made him grab his coat, yell a hurried _'I'm off!'_ to his mother and make for the park at top speed, already bracing himself for the his sister's glare at his lateness. Charlie squinted at the long thin sweep hand and groaned. It wasn't moving. That meant he was either way too late, or too early. Judging by the lack of an irritated older sister, it was probably the latter.

He heard the slight rustle of a newspaper from behind him, and turned to see a middle-aged man sitting on a bench a few paces away, engrossed in the financial section. Charlie's face split into a grin when he noticed the glint of a rather expensive looking Rolex, half-hidden behind the man's sleeve.

He scratched his tousled red hair self-consciously, then advanced.

''Excuse me?''

The man looked up, his puzzled expression turning into amusement as he laid his eyes on the small boy.

''Yes?'' he asked, not unkindly.

''You wouldn't happen to know how late it is?'' Charlie asked.

The man raised his left hand to eye level.

''It's exactly 2:51.''

Charlie groaned.

''I'm way too early, then,'' he complained, flinging himself down onto the bench next to the man, ''I'll have to wait-'' he paused for a moment, mentally struggling with the figures in his head, ''_Nine minutes_!'' he finally exclaimed pathetically.

''Oh, dear, dear..'' the man murmured with a twinkle in his eyes, ''If there were only a way to loose nine whole minutes..''

''My watch's stopped,'' Charlie offered, thinking he may as well keep the conversation going, if he was going to be waiting that long, ''Must've stopped yesterday, maybe even the day before. I usually don't wear it.''

''But you did today?'' the man asked, folding his newspaper up carefully.

''Yeah.. well, I thought I'd better.. I'm meeting my sister, and she always gets mad when I'm late. We're going to go to the cinema.''

Charlie had been relieved when Dana had grudgingly agreed to accompany him, as Bill Jr. currently didn't have time for anything but revision for a particularly nasty English test about _A Tale of Two Cities_, and Melissa had flatly refused to be dragged to any movie which was about baseball. Dana (who wasn't a great baseball fan either) had only caved in, because she had learned that Tatum O'Neal, whom she had loved in _Paper Moon_, would be playing one of the lead roles.

''That's nice,'' the man said, smiling down at him, ''What's the film you're planning to see?''

''_The Bad News Bears_,'' Charlie told him cheerfully, forgetting his plight, ''It's about this baseball team-'' he stopped short, having just realized why the man's accent seemed so odd, ''Wait a minute!'' (Pointing an accusing finger at the man excitedly) ''You're _English_!''

The man chuckled. ''You've caught me, son.''

''You got a cool English name?'' Charlie asked eagerly, ''Like Lord Hammerton, or something like that?''

''No, I'm afraid not,'' the English man smiled, ''Nothing as interesting as that, I regret to say..''

''_Well_?'' Charlie asked expectantly.

The man paused, as if considering. ''John Doe,'' he finally offered.

''Oh,'' Charlie said, disappointed. Then, cheering up, ''Want to hear my name?''

''I'd love to.''

''Charles Alexander Scully,'' Charlie said proudly.

''That _is_ more interesting than mine,'' Mr Doe conceded, smiling.

Charlie grinned back, proud to have impressed his new friend.

''Ah,'' Mr. Doe said, his eyes fixed on someone behind Charlie, ''I must be going now, Charles.''

Charlie turned to see a dark-haired man of undetermined age standing a few paces away. As he looked, the man extracted a small red and white packet from his long overcoat, opened it, and took out a cigarette.

''So, you've been waiting too,'' Charlie said, turning back to Mr Doe.

''I have, young man. And I thank you for your company and interesting conversation.''

Charlie felt his face burn as he tried to keep his self-conscious grin under control.

''That's alright.'' He looked back to the long coated man, who was now enveloped in smoke. ''You should tell your friend to quit. Smoking's bad for you.''

Mr Doe chuckled. ''Oh, I think he's too old to change his ways now.. oh! It seems that I'm not the only one who doesn't have to wait anymore.''

His eyes were on a twelve-year-old girl who was running towards them, the fiery hair flying behind her the exact same color as her brother's.

''I may be wrong, but I assume that your sister has arrived.''

''Yep,'' Charlie grinned, waving at her, ''That's Dana.''

''Well, goodbye, Charles Alexander Scully,'' Mr Doe said, straightening up and offering his hand. Beaming at the thought of Dana witnessing his important moment, Charlie took it, shaking it a bit more vigorously than Mr Doe had expected and making him laugh.

''Didn't expect you to be on time, let alone early,'' Dana said, as they headed to the cinema a few minutes later.

''I'm not _always_ late,'' Charlie said indignantly, conveniently forgetting to tell her about his watch.

''Who was that guy you were talking to, anyway?'' she asked, ''You know Mom doesn't like you talking to strangers..''

''But we're not strangers now,'' Charlie beamed, ''We're friends! I told him my name, and he told me his. He's _English_, anyway. English people don't go around kidnapping you and stuff..''

His sister snorted, and he went on hastily, before she could list all the British kidnapping masterminds she had heard of. Sometimes Dana was such a know-it-all..

''He hasn't got an interesting name though.. I thought all rich English people had interesting names..''

''Why d'you think he was rich?''

''I saw his rollix watch.''

''It's called _Rolex_,'' his sister told him patiently, rolling her eyes in that irritating way of hers.

''Whatever.''

''So? What's his uninteresting name, then?''

''John Doe.''

''Right.''

''What? It's true!''

''He told you that?'' Charlie didn't like the smugness in her expression.

''Yeahhh..'' he said cautiously.

''Oh, c'mon Charlie! He was kidding you!''

''No he wasn't!'' Charlie snapped, annoyed, ''You're just jealous, because I made friends with a grown-up.''

''Am not. He-''

''Are too.''

''Charlie, shut up!'' She was growing irritated now, and Charlie thought it best to do as she said, in case she changed her mind about the cinema.

''Don't you _know_ what 'John Doe' means?''

Charlie shrugged. ''Bet _you_ didn't when you were my age,'' he mumbled.

''Did too,'' came the predictable answer.

''Well? What does it mean then?'' he asked, peeved.

''It's a name you give someone whose identity is unknown.''

''Oh,'' Charlie said. A pause, then: ''Think his mother knows?''


	7. Waiting

September 19, 1977

San Diego High School

San Diego, California

2:07 p.m.

''I need to talk to Dana Scully?''

All eyes in the classroom swiveled to Dana, who felt her stomach plummet. The principal was looking at her expectantly, so she rose from her desk and began walking to the front of the room, trying to look as innocently bewildered as possible.

Her teacher smiled at her encouragingly as she passed him, a smile she did not return, because her eyes were fixed on her shoes.

Dana knew exactly what this was about, although she wasn't sure how they had found out. She could kill her brother. And why was the principal collecting her from the classroom in person? Was it that bad? Was she going to be expelled for a little thing like that? But, then again, teachers always were so touchy.

The mental image of the large, and in Dana's opinion, rather accurate felt tipped caricature of the school principal (with careful emphasis on his slight overbite) on the mirror of the girl's bathroom rose before her eyes.

It had been Bill Jr.'s idea of an appropriate dare for his little sister, and she had accepted rather grudgingly, albeit it not without the exhilarating feeling of willingly breaking school rules. If truth be told, Dana was rather proud of the end result, as her artistry skills often left much to be desired. But, she had decided, after surveying her effort proudly, she had to admit that she rather did have a knack for caricatures.

It was just typical, that she should be caught the first time she had ever broken the school rules (apart from occasional fights in the yard), whereas Missy got away with it on a daily basis...

But how had they known? She was sure no one had been in the bathroom when she'd done it. She'd checked. Unless they had hidden cameras in the girl's toilets, which would just be sick. In that case, she wouldn't mind being expelled from a school which thought it necessary to spy on their students in that way. Was that even legal? Maybe she could sue them-

''Dana?'' the principal began softly, ''There's-''

''I did it for a dare, sir,'' Dana said quickly.

''Did what?'' he asked blankly.

Dana was about to tell him about the very accurate caricature which so resembled him, but caught herself just in time.

''Nothin'.''

He didn't know about it then! Her relief lasted until they rounded a corner, where her mother, Bill Jr. and Melissa were waiting, all looking pale and scared.

Five minutes later they were all in the car, driving to the hospital. Bill Jr. was in the front, a map of the city in his hands as he gave their mother directions. Maggie was completely silent, her hands clutching the steering wheel tightly, muttering under her breath every time they were forced to come to a halt in front of a red traffic light. Dana had never seen her mother that way, and it scared her almost as much as the reason they were heading to the hospital in the first place. She was in the back with Missy, only dimly aware that her sister was holding her hand.

Her mother had answered all her questions with a brusque: _I don't know._ and she had kept quiet after that, horrible scenarios forming in her mind.

The journey seemed to take for ever, and yet no time at all, and then they were getting out of the car, running up the steps to the entrance. Maggie shouted at the admittance nurse, who was young and rather slow on the uptake and Dana could tell that this really was serious. Her head was spinning, and she leant against Missy for support. Had she really been worried about getting into trouble for that stupid drawing only half an hour ago?

Another nurse had come to the rescue and led them into a hall with chairs.

''He's already in surgery,'' she told Maggie calmly, in a matter-of-fact voice, and Dana wondered whether this sort of thing happened here all the time, or whether his injuries weren't that bad after all, or whether the nurse was just being dim.

''I need to go in there-'' Maggie began through gritted teeth, but the nurse shook her head.

''I'm sorry, but you can't. You'd just be getting in the way-'' Even through her shock and fear, Dana was able to feel a sudden surge of hatred towards the woman, ''- and he's unconscious anyway, he wouldn't know.''

Missy slid down onto the nearest chair, and Dana followed suit, staring at the door opposite to them, with a small white card mounted neatly next to it. _Operating Room_ it said, and she felt her blood run cold. Bill Jr. swore under his breath as he slumped down on the chair next to Dana, but Maggie didn't move.

''Have you got a telephone?'' she asked the nurse.

''Yeah, in my office, I'll lead the way,'' she said, beginning to walk down the corridor. Maggie looked at her children.

''I just need to phone your father, I'll be back in a minute..'' And with that she hurried after the nurse.

''Why does she need to phone Dad?'' Dana asked, panic rising in her chest, ''Is it really that bad?''

''Shit, Dana,'' Bill snapped angrily, ''He's in surgery! How bad did you think it was?''

''Is he going to die?''

A silence followed her question, and Dana wanted to scream, to cry, to _run_, but she couldn't. All she did was sit there, gazing at the green door in front of her, shaking.

Missy put her arm around her and whispered: ''Charlie's not going to die, Dana. They have good doctors here, good surgeons. He'll be fine.''

''What happened?'' All she had gotten out of her mother had been ''_car crash_.''

''It was Mrs Lauren's fault,'' Bill said hotly, and Dana remembered the middle-aged woman who picked her daughter and Charlie up from school every day, ''She-''

''It wasn't anybody's fault,'' Melissa amended calmly, ''It just happened.''

No, Dana thought, This sort of thing shouldn't just happen. It should never _just_ happen!

But she was too weary and frightened and numb to feel the rage Bill was feeling. What did it matter?

Mrs Scully returned from the nurse's office, and sat down next to Missy without saying a word.

''Did you get him, Mom?'' Bill asked.

She nodded. ''He'll be here as soon as he can.'' Dana didn't even know where her father was at the moment.

Then the waiting began.

People passed them in the hallway, either completely oblivious to the small, terrified group, or casting sympathetic looks at them. Dana wasn't sure which was worse. Every time someone left the operating room, their mother would spring to her feet and accost them, only to trudge back to her seat again, after they had told her there was no way of saying anything definite.

Dana had drifted into state between sleeping and waking, with her head on Missy's lap, something she hadn't done since she had been quite small. The hall they were in stank of disinfectant, and Dana decided that she hated it. Hated the smell, the hallway, the entire building!

After about two hours, although it was hard to tell how much time had gone by, it seemed so much longer than that, a young woman in a nurse's uniform came to them with two bottles of mineral water and told them they had to eat something. Maggie agreed, so she led them to the canteen, where they forced down sandwiches with the help of the water. Dana took one look at the tuna sandwich she had ordered, then pushed it away from her, feeling nauseous.

''Dana, honey,'' her mother said gently, ''Just try and eat a little. Your body needs it.''

Dana grimaced, then started nibbling at the white bread. The moment her mother's back was turned, she threw it into the rubbish bin, which was conveniently close to her.

And back they went, and the waiting game resumed.

This time Dana really did drift into an uneasy sleep, and only woke when she sensed someone standing up and leaving.

''What happened?'' she gasped, her heart racing, as she pulled her head up from Missy's lap.

''Nothing,'' Missy told her, giving her a one-armed hug, ''Mom's just gone to look for someone who can tell us what's going on..''

''Oh..'' She wriggled into a sitting position, glancing at the closed door of the surgery room.

''How you holding up, Scout?'' a familiar voice asked.

She turned to see Mr Evans, her Sunday School teacher, sitting next to her.

''What-''

''I came as soon as I heard. I'm really sorry, Scout.''

He had started calling her Scout after she had become mad at James Hannerlay at Sunday School and flung herself at him in front of everyone. Why had she been so mad? She couldn't remember.. she'd only understood the meaning of the name a few weeks ago, after she had picked up _To Kill a Mockingbird_ at the library.

As much as Dana liked Mr Evans, she felt uneasy at his being there. A Sunday School teacher. It reminded her of the priest at the bedside of the dying invalid, or the man who was sent to the electric chair. They only came when people were about to die.

Missy seemed to share her uneasiness, although not for the same reasons.

''He came to tell us that it's all one of God's greater plans,'' she told her sister, making no effort to conceal her distain. Missy had recently come to the conclusion that Catholicism was not for her. A discovery that had been the subject of many family rows between her and their parents. Dana had secretly felt that Missy had as much right to choose her own religion as anyone, although she would never have dared to tell Ahab, who had been livid the first Sunday Missy had refused to accompany them to church.

Mr Evans smiled at Missy, shaking his head slightly.

''I didn't mean that-'' he began, but stopped at the sound of running footsteps. The others turned as well, and Bill Jr. stood up, as their mother came running towards them, breathless, tearful. Relieved.

''He's going to be all right!'' she called over to her children, kissing Bill Jr., then hugging Missy and Dana. ''He'll have to stay here a couple of weeks, and he'll need stitches, and.. oh! Isn't it wonderful?''

It was. Wonderful. Dana closed her eyes as relief gushed over her. Missy and Mom were laughing now, both with tears in their eyes, and Bill slumped into his seat, looking exhausted, but delighted.

Dana breathed in the disinfectant smell of the hallway, feeling elated. How could she have ever hated it? The smell? The hallway? The hospital?

People's lives were saved here.

How must it feel? To be able to save someone's life?

And then, for the first time, she knew she was going to be a doctor.

Mr Evans was smiling down at her.

''God moves in mysterious ways,'' he whispered.

A week later, Mrs Scully would come into Dana's room to tell her that his body had been found in the front yard of his house.


End file.
